


Halcyon

by Papillonn



Series: Halcyon [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Abuse, Domestic Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gentle Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Protection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 12:44:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2025573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papillonn/pseuds/Papillonn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After rescuing a girl from her violent lover, Loki becomes infatuated with saving the little mortal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I will be posting a oneshot series to accompany Halcyon with its according chapters. The main smut with ensue there.

Mortal. Little mortal woman.

Her beauty was inconsequential; even those things on her cheeks that she haughtily called dimples. None of it mattered to Loki, crowned prince of Asgard, protector of the nine realms. She was a little mortal woman. Even if he so desired her company she couldn’t possibly live up to the expectations that he had for a spouse. He needed a warrior; a strong, determined lover. Not a little mortal.

Staring at her naked figure, covered by a flimsy white sheet, his head ached as he wracked his brain trying to figure out exactly why he had stooped to this level…Thor’s level. Thor traveled to Midgard on several occasions for the sole purpose of meeting some fragile human to bed. He did not care that there was a plethora of fine Asgardian women who fell at his feet, and fainted at the mere mention of his name. Said women were above average in beauty, and intellect, and yet he had a fascination with weak Midgardians.

Loki decided that the draw was their was their fragility. Thor was intrigued by things that he could break with the flick of his wrist. He had never considered himself to be so pathetic as to follow in that mundane desire. That was until he found Penelope, his little mortal. Everything about this lowly Midgardian had bewitched him making Loki loathe his existence on the pathetic realm. He’d disgraced himself by becoming enamored, yet he couldn’t keep himself away…

She was peace and he was her savior.

He’d been inside of a Midgardian drinking house when he heard her screaming. Even through all of the blaring, terrible music, he could hear her terrified cries for help. The glass of ale that he’d been nursing nearly shattered in his hand as he listened, and then abruptly he shoved it across the long bar in a cold fury, standing, knocking the stool from underneath of him, causing bystanders to look at him curiously. He paid them no mind as he shoved hurriedly passed the crowds of inebriated mortals, finally reaching the neon exit where the crescendo of screams became brighter and made his heartbeat twice as frantically. A reaction foreign to Loki. 

The scene was too cliché. A little women cowering under a hefty man, eyes wide in terror; damsel. It was too easy to wrench the brute up by his soiled collar and throw him across the alley in which they stood. He didn’t even look at the woman before he narrowed in on the attacker. On Asgard, women were fiercely beheld as majestic creatures, and violence against them was not tolerated. Looking at the drunken mortal in front of him, who’s eyes pupils were blown with fear and trepidation at his current situation, Loki thought of his own mother Frigga, Queen of Asgard, a woman whom he loved deeply, and respected even more. 

Hot, bubbling rage simmered in the prince’s veins, and he sized the man again around his neck, pressing his thumbs roughly into his windpipe until the glorious sound of gasping tickled his ears. Lost in his craze, Loki almost failed to notice the damsel come to her feet in horrified sprint to where he stood, defending her honor. She grabbed hold of his arms and tugged with all of her might, trying to yank Loki from the attacker. Her cries of desperation were the thing that broke his concentration. Only then did he take notice of her touch, and shake her from his person as if her flesh had burn him like a scalding hot poker. 

“Leave him alone!” she screamed. Loki then took in her appearance in the dim light that the bulb above them provided. She was tiny with typical Midgardian clothing. Most interesting was her face. She was fair with blazing hazel eyes, and deep red lips with a defined bow that made his throat constrict painfully. Her brow was furrowed deeply in distaste, and he could note the swelling of her jaw, which sent a fury like no other coursing through him.

“You are hurt and delusional,” he stated simply, “Stand back, mortal.”

“Mort—how dare you! Let him go, you bastard!” she yelled angrily. “You’re going to kill him!”

“Indeed a shall, you pathetic quim. Now you will stand back,” his tone changed from loud to dangerously low with whisper or a threat. She looked back at him in angry shock, and without first considering her actions, she gasped and swung her palm intending to slap him for his remark. 

Loki was quick. His reflexes were astoundingly lithe and he caught her upper hand, dropping the attacker in the process. He pinned her to the brick wall, hearing her skull hit the stone forcibly, and inwardly wincing. Weak, pathetic mortal. Stupid, ignorant mortal.

“You. Will. Never. Raise. Your. Hand. To. Me. Again.” He hissed in her face, emphasizing each and every syllable. The woman looked petrified, massive eyes exploding into a chorus of different fears. Loki almost smiled. It was too simple. For a moment he believed the little fool to have some type of spirit. Clearly he was mistaken.

Then a change. Her eyes calmed and narrowed in a hard stare. They held his vibrant irises in a silent challenge. They no longer cowered in fear. She stood there, feet below him, arms pressed to the wall, hard against his body; fierce. Some flicker of danger that shadowed in those brilliant eyes took him. Patience expended, nerves barred, his hand slid from her arm up to the column of her sweet neck. The pale skin was exposed even in the conditions that were cold to most mortals.

‘Most’ Loki mused, mirthfully. This mortal was no ordinary mortal. The look of pure contempt in her eyes spoke that truth. 

“Get your hands off of me,” she seethed dangerously. Some how, the bite in her voice shook Loki and gave him the bitter taste of distain. Then his hands were off of her, free from the soft skin that had caressed the pads of his fingers. He stared, and then stared some more, deep green eyes penetrating the surface of the mortal woman, trying to memorize each detail, down to the freckles on her nose. He ritualized her breathing patterns and he noticed that she began to shiver.

Conjuring his wits, he mustered the strength to use his magic and then suddenly, her shaking stopped, and a look of incredulity crossed her features. She looked back to Loki with wide eyes.

“What are you?” she breathed, unafraid, but astounded. Loki’s lips dipped to her ear, ignoring the scrambling mortals coming in and outside of the drinking establishment.

“I am a god among men, little woman.”

Suddenly her hands were on his chest, burning through the fabric as she tried to shove him away from her. Loki had not even noticed her attempt at freedom. She felt electricity run through her, and an invisible pull that made her crave the same heat that had just come from his body. She swallowed tightly and tried to force past him.

“You will not be returning back to your dwellings with that man,” Loki stated lazily. “If you entertain such thoughts I will kill him to ensure your obedience.”

The girl looked back at him from where she’d looked away during her frantic search for the man who’d just attacked her. The coward had escaped.

“I was going to make sure you didn’t already do that!” she shouted.

Loki stared at her with wide eyes.

“Did that mortal not harm you?”

“It was my fault!” she told him indignantly. “I called him a bastard.”

“If I do recall, you called me something similar, yet I did not raise my hand to you. Your justification is poor,”

She huffed.

“Pray tell, what is your name, girl?”

“Who’s asking?” she challenged, a brow struck high.

“Loki of Asgard.”

A terrible sound fell from her lips and pierced the cold night air. It was a laugh. She dared laugh at him! Hot, white anger shot through him, and it took all of his self-control not to strangle the pathetic Midgardian and show her, her proper place.

“Watch your tongue, mortal.”

“Nell.”

“Beg your pardon—“ he began, his face twisting up in confusion.

“My name is Nell,” she drew out.

Loki’s face once again contorted on confusion. Nell, what type of name was that?

“It’s short for Penelope,” she snipped, seeing his dissatisfaction. How rude!

“Penelope,” he tested. Certainly more amiable, he though privately. 

“You’re scaring me.” She stated plainly, looking around frantically for a purse that she’d dropped earlier. Nell was still perfectly warmed even in her state of dress. He was going to be so angry. Henry was going to be so mad. Her chest tightened in fear as she thought deeper into that. She’d been away too many days and he was furious. How could she had have been so stupid as to have come to the bar that he frequented? She hated herself in that moment.

“You did not blink when I tried to put fear into you body,” Loki rationalized, annoyed that he no longer had her full attention. She looked back up at him and he was wrought to realize that it comforted him. “As a matter of fact, mortal, you still do not appear to be afraid. Am I correct in my evaluation? Hmm?”

“Correct,” she responded, now aggravated more than anything. “Look, I don’t have time to stand out here and deal with druggies… I’ve got to find my boyfriend.”

Loki snorted.

“I know not what you refer to by that, but I assure you, I was not jesting with my earlier promise. You will not be returning to that mortal.”

“So says who?” she demanded angrily, looking back at him, giving up on her purse, and placing a hand on her hip. Her postured amused the Asgardian. She was frighteningly petite.

Her stance distracted him from his thoughts. He could not properly focus long enough to conjure a threat for the damsel. 

His presence loomed over her, brooding in his attempts to scare her into submission. Seeing Loki’s silence, Nell scoffed and continued her quest to find her bag. Loki’s vision was better under the circumstances and spotted the black heap of leather quicker than she, and advanced towards it, picking it up without spilling its contents in the process.

“Your belongings,” he offered stiffly.

Nell eyed the bag and took it fast before the stranger could retract his offer. “I have pepper spray,” she warned.

“I haven’t a clue what you speak of, little mortal.”

“You are one sick man…”

She looked at him, hazel eyes lost to green, and so much emotion and turmoil swarmed through that it made Loki feel physically ill. She bared truth in her reverent gaze.

Those were her parting words. She turned on her stubborn heel, and left Loki standing like a fool who had been scalded. In any other scenario, he would have yanked the woman back around and forced her to look him in the eyes. If she were of his realm, desire would have coursed through her body and she would have fallen at his feet. But instead, she turned her back on him, and Loki stared after her just a little lost.


	2. Halcyon

Three days later and his search for the little bird was futile. He invaded the thoughts of those in the area and still couldn’t find the girl from the alley. That reality made him furious. How could these witless mortals not notice someone like her? The one who had invaded his every thought since meeting her. The bruise on the side of her jaw worried him more than anything else. He wanted to confirm her safety and that she had heeded his warning about the mortal man that had attacked her outside of the alehouse. Her stubborn demeanor frightened Loki into thinking otherwise. Midgard was a particularly cruel dwelling. He didn’t know what to expect within the realm.

He was hesitant to admit the trance that he was under. It felt like a weakness and Loki was not inclined to confess. His obligation to protect Midgard and be watchful had seemed pointless up until this particular moment. He knew that the tiny bird needed help, though. She needed him, and he couldn’t find her. He returned to the bar each and every night, from open till close in hopes of finding her.

Three weeks later he was successful.  
Penelope had arrived already partially inebriated. She was alone and she looked sad and reckless. Loki, who had been perched on a bar stool, found her immediately. Her mass of brown curls were not easy to mistake for another. When he placed a hand on her shoulder, she flinched. It was not the reaction he was expecting. She was a fearsome being when he met her before.

When she turned to meet his gaze, he noticed that the bruise on her jaw had healed, only to be replaced by one just under her eye. It was concealed to the human eye with some type of make-up, but Loki saw past it and darkness fell over him like a Midgardian cloud. She had not listened, and once again, she’d been hurt.

His fingers reached up deftly, and traced softly along the tender spot. She didn’t move or flinch, so taken by his eyes and the sudden tenderness that she had been so robbed of. Emotions swept over and threatened to drown her. No, not here. This was a stranger. He could hurt her. He had almost killed Henry.

But the trust that she felt was numbing and made her feel vulnerable and scared.

“You’re hurt, little bird,” the smooth tone of his voice concealed the fury that was flowing through him rapidly. His hand did not drop. He continued to touch her, refusing to relinquish this feeling of contentment after three weeks of misery without a name.

“I’m not a little bird,” she told him sadly. Her eyes were so sad, and Loki decided that he couldn’t stand it.

“Where is your man?” he demanded, letting his hand fall stiffly to his side, his eyes searching the crowd.

“He isn’t here.”

“Home?”

“I have no home.” She confessed.

“Had you a home?”

A silent nod was the only conformation that she gave him.

“This is too heavy for me,” she whined. “I need to drink,”

Loki looked at her in deep confusion. He saw nothing heavy in her hands. Her need to drink did not seem so much like a need rather than a want. He caught her wrist before she could escape him. Another flinch prompted him to pull the hem of her sleeve to reveal deep, ugly bruises in the shape of fingers. A small hiss passed through his lips. He was unsure of how to compose himself.

“Look at me!” he demanded. She didn’t. He found shame in her lowered head. Fingers slid under her chin and brought her eyes at level with his own. Nell felt her chest tighten and tears threaten to spill over. No. No. She chanted to herself. This behavior was forbidden. No tears.

“What do you need, Penelope?”

He remembered her name.

Her chest began to thump wildly inside of her chest.

“A drink,” she barely managed.

“Come with me. We shall get your drink… but not here.”

_____________________________

She shouldn’t have trusted him. It was stupid. But her feet kept moving through the streets as he led her away from the safety of the bar and to an unknown location in the depths of the city. Why did she trust him? Maybe Nell thought he might kill her. Maybe she wanted him to. Perhaps everything has just become too much for her to handle and she was ready to go away.

They arrived to a flat that looked vacated. A shiver ran through Nell as she looked expectantly to Loki for instruction. She was his puppet right now. He unlocked the door and waited for her to pass. Before she stepped over the threshold, she looked up at him severely.

“If you mean to kill me; do it quickly. I don’t want to suffer any more.”

Loki’s eyes flashed with unwarranted emotion at her words. He stared her down and tried to put true fear into her eyes so that he might have a hand above her in this situation, but all too quickly he realized that the little mortal possessed all of the power right now.

She walked into the abode in silence and didn’t gasp with a fire erupted in a hearth not far from a small sitting room where a couch and two armchairs sat. Books were piled high on manmade shelves and if it were not for her busy eyes, she would have stopped to look them all over more thoroughly and lust after the titles.

He did magic.

He was a fucking magician.

Nell knew that she should ask questions, but her heart hurt too much to care right then and there. She didn’t want to ruin the night by opening up any can of worms. He’d already done enough of the heavy to last her a lifetime. 

“What would you like to drink, Penelope?” Her name sounded very good rolling off of his tongue. Her eyes closed as she faced the fire, her back towards the stranger.

“Whatever you’ve got,” she answered, basking in the warm glow. Loki decided that a glass of scotch was in order. He made quick work of preparing both of them a drink, and then at no time at all he was back in front of her holding out the tumbler. Silent thanks fell from her lips and she drank it down in one hard shot. Her wince caused her face to scrunch up and two holes to appear in her cheeks in a manner that was not entirely unpleasant. He studied her so intensely, that soon she became uncomfortable and turned her face away from him.

“Why does he hurt you?” Loki asked after a few long moments. A shrug of her tiny shoulders was all he was met with. She still wouldn’t look at him. Loki felt such confusion that he was angry and worried at once.

“Maybe I deserve it.” She said.

“That is impossible. Do you hurt him?”

“I hurt his heart.”

“How, pray tell, do you manage that, mortal?”

She ignored the bite. “I can’t love him right.”

Loki hummed in soft annoyance.

“Do Midgardians dictate something so complex as sentiment and affection? Foolish mortals,” he muttered darkly. A small, sick sounding laugh came from the girl before him.

“You talk so weird.”

“Eloquent as ever, little bird.”

Her called her little bird. Nell didn’t understand why that affected her as deeply as it did, but she could help but notice. The emotional drawl was so present that she had to shut her eyes in order to calm her rapidly beating heart. She sought comfort so badly that her hands nearly shook.

“You have many books.”

“It is how I tolerate this dull realm.” She turned, calm enough to face him again. She tried to remember his words about realms and magic from before, but it was too difficult. She’d been too stunned.

“You’re sticking to that story.”

“I know not what you mean.” He tested. Color was coming back to her face thanks to her liquid life.

“My mother warned me never to trust psychotic strangers.”

“Only psychotic lovers, then?”

It stung her; even more so that he insinuated that Henry was her lover. For some reason she was hoping that would have slipped his mind and she would have been able to have a clean slate. She forgot easily what had gained the strangers sympathy.

“Let’s not talk about him. Let’s talk about you and your unhealthy delusions. Tell me your name again,”

He sneered at her comment.

“Loki Odinson. I am from the Realm Eternal. I am a crowned prince and will some day rule as king.”

She erupted with laughter again. Loki’s brow furrowed in a tight line of anger. She continued to mock him.

“Loki like the God of Mischief? Oh Christ.”

“One of my less appealing titles, I’ll admit.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“How shall I prove it to you, Penelope of Midgard?”

Secretly she knew that he was telling the truth. He was mystical creature from another realm. He possessed superhuman strength and the ability to control her. Why else would she have come with him? That thought comforted her a great deal and she sighed silently, glad that internal argument was finally over.

“Can you heal?”

The question was laced with secrets and longing. She beared it all just then. Loki took a step forward, wary of her flinching earlier. He settled his hands under her jaws, bringing her face up to his eye level. His eyes captivated her. They were so green. She imagined that he would be minty. Large thumbs swept over the bruise under her eye.

“I can make these go away, but, little one, will that make it all better?” A silent shake of her head and he sighed knowingly.

“You can make me forget. Just for a little while. It can be our secret. This is our ground zero where no one can hurt us.”

Loki understood her proposition and considered it warily. She was soft under his hands and in those few seconds, his eyes shifted downward towards her mouth and studied her lips intently, wondering how they might taste. Would she be as sweet as she looked? Would her broken heart leave her tasting bitter?

He didn’t have a chance to wonder any more, because standing as tall as she could make herself, Nell rose to her tippy toes and planted her mouth hard on Loki’s. Her demands were simple. She wanted unattached sex to help her forget what a shit life she was leading. She needed him to wash away the bad taste in her mouth, no matter how much of a fucking lunatic he was. She needed it, she decided.

Loki was stunned and unsure how to respond. His teeth gnashed against her own unceremoniously and he decided that this approach was all wrong, and ruining the fantasies he’d created in the last few moments. She wanted him to take care of her. He knew that this violent coupling wouldn’t be what she needed. She needed the reinforcement that affection came in all different sorts. Her violent lover had not treated her properly. He had not treated her the way a woman deserved to be treated.

Loki decided that for once in his existence, he was going to care about another more than himself. He was going to grant her wishes and satisfy his own selfish desires. It was time to make the little bird forget…

He undressed her layers of clothing piece by piece and unveiled the patterns of hand shaped bruises that made his stomach sick. The coloration was different shades of black, blue, green and even yellow. Some were faint, and others new. When his eyes shifted from her body and back to her liquid brown, he found her apprehensiveness; her terror. Loki realized that she was not physically afraid of him, but it was his rejection of her body that terrified her so. Though his mind reeled with anger and hatred towards her man, he did not allow it to reach his eyes. Instead, he looked past the damage and found her. Her.

It was a continuation of beauty. Sleep was not a concern or a temptation. Every waking moment was dedicated to a task of giving the little bird what she needed so desperately. Loki became obsessed in his task, and consumed by the pleasures that laid in its wake. Receptive, yearning, hopeful, hurt, and so fucking soft. He didn’t want to hurt her. He always wanted to hurt the women that he laid with. It was a punishment for weakening his resolve. This Midgardian had bewitched him in all of her tepid sadness.

The rustling of sheets, and the sound of her sweet panting was a chorus of beauty to Loki. She clutched him tightly against her, twisting her legs around his hips, attempting to further pull him into her. She touched his hair, and allowed him to torture her with his slow pace. He was tender, and gentle. He touched her like she was made out of precious glass. His languid movements made her bite, and tug his hair so hard that low, guttural sounds passed through his lips. He never grabbed her, or handled her too aggressively. Loki was petrified that one slip up would ruin what was easily the greatest night of his existence. This sex was meaningful, whether the Midgardian wanted it to be, or not.

Afterward she slept, collapsed on his chest, exhaustion pouring over her like rain. He stayed awake; looking at the patterns of bruises coating her lovely pale skin. He made a vow to protect her henceforth, never allowing any harm to come to her again. For a brief moment, entirely blissed out by the essence this lovely creature exuded, Loki forgot about weak mortals and their inferiority. He chose to be foolish.

In the morning, she was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

He brooded for an incredibly long period, blaming himself for not being vigilant enough. He should have been able to stop her. He should have heard her awaken, shuffling around for her clothing. Instead, he’d fallen prey to the exhaustion that the little bird had lingered in after their lovemaking. 

The stiffness in his limbs proved that the previous night had not been a figment of his imagination. The bedclothes were helter skelter as well. He could smell the faint scent of her perfume lingering behind, and teasing his nostrils.

His eyes shut firmly; flashes of the previous night running through his head and making him feel insane. How could he have been so stupid? He let his guard down for merely a moment’s time and suddenly he was duped. By a little mortal. 

‘My little mortal,’ he’d crooned in her ear the night before, tracing his tongue along the curve of her sweet neck. She had shivered in such delight and the image had burned so deeply into his brain that he could hardly think of anything else. He’d taken a vow the previous night to keep her under his way, and now she’d disappeared into the vast Midgardian world and could have very well been anywhere. 

Loki’s magic was not exceptional in this place. At home in Asgard was a different tale entirely. He was able to conjuring up anything, or preform any type of phenomena he could dream up. In Midgard, he was best suited for simple tasks, like warming a mortal. Casting a locating spell had first come to his mind when he had first lost Penelope in the alleyway. He knew that it would drain him of power for days, so he resisted the pull. Now that he had become physically acquainted with the woman, and knew the extent of her abuse, he felt that it was urgent that he seek her out and keep her protected.

He didn’t have to use any magic. 

Her face was in the news the very next day, being called a victim; a little mortal who was barely alive in a hospital in a local Midgardian city. They didn’t call her Penelope, but the picture of his little woman was unmistakable, even for the untrained mind. She was grinning in the picture, looking quite different than before. Her face was fuller and brighter, and those mysterious holes in her cheeks were alarmingly prominent, almost as if she’d existed in unequivocal joy in the moment it was taken. 

Loki had never before felt such a white, unadulterated wrath before. His saw red as he watched his lover on the news inside of the bar where he’d first become acquainted with her. He had some ridiculous hope that she might turn up there, ready to make love to him again, once more surrendering her precious body to his unquenchable thirst. A weakness he loathed the entire way to the alehouse. 

Now he was beside himself with all the thoughts racing through his head, panic flowing steadily through his veins. The first day away from her and she was hurt, laid up in a hospital, hurt. Loki didn’t know the first emotion to feel, anger or fear for the little lady. He couldn’t sort his priorities at all. He didn’t know whether or not to kill her ex-lover, or go and sit next to her side at the Midgardian hospital. He needed to save his strength to heal her if she was too hurt. 

Too hurt. 

The thought was incredulous for Loki. She should have been perfectly and utterly intact. Her only pain should have been the soreness between her legs for the ample attention he’d given her the night before. She should have woken, tangled in his limbs as he’d fantasized falling asleep the night before. Suddenly Loki’s anger became confusion. Why had she left? If she had stayed with him, she would be safe, and unscathed.   
He was hurting. 

Loki decided that vengeance could wait. He needed to confirm that she as going to be ok. He left the alehouse before he could kill anyone, and made his way through the city to the hospital closest to the attack that his little mortal had undergone. Thoughts were flying through his head, wondering where it had taken place. She said that she did not have a home, so the place must have belonged to her ex-lover. Loki wondered what had sparked the fight. Penelope had made it very clear that she wanted the tryst to be their secret. She had said so as he carefully shed her layers of clothing. The words had penetrated then, but now as he rehearsed them, they hit him even harder as he suspected himself the cause of her tragedy. 

Coming into the hospital, he attracted attention from on-lookers. He realized that he was unaware of Penelope’s full information, and that he would have to use magic in order to see her. It was a sacrifice he was very much willing to make in order to see Penelope.

It was easy to find her. The units were labeled easily enough. Loki had paid close attention to the new report on her. She was in the trauma unit where she was being observed closely for fractured ribs, and a collapsed lung. Such ailments were not common on Asgard. Loki had tried his best to understand what this meant for her tiny human body, but it was far too out of his realm of expertise.

After he found her ward, he went through the different doors unseen, and finally, mimicking the actions of different medical aids, checking in on patients. He found a record bearing her name, and quickly scanned through. She was stabilized, according to her chart. Some of her injuries were unbeknownst to him, and it made him slightly furious that the news had been misleading about her wounds. 

It was long moments before he could force himself to go into the room. The stench of sterilization reeked, and filled him with dread. He forced himself to open the door and slide through the silent quarters. Her could hear the faint beep of a machine. His eyes occupied everything but the small little body, swallowed up by confines of her bed. Finally, when Loki could inspect no further, he finally cast his gaze on Penelope. 

The way he felt in that singular moment was inexplicable. All of the fury in the world couldn’t do justice to the way he felt just then. He felt sadness and helplessness. Loki wanted to smash through walls, and choke the life out of anyone that even looked at her. He wanted to design ways to hurt this ex-lover so badly. He wanted to touch her face and fix what had been marred, and cleanse the hurt from inside. 

But he couldn’t do any of those things. So he sat. 

Then he paced, and then he brooded, and tugged violently at his hair. Had they been in Asgard, this would have never happened. She would have been protected, and if not protected, he could have professional healers helping her.

A low growl rose within his chest. He didn’t know how to let out the pent up fury that had accumulated since he saw her on the T.V. screen. He still did not allow himself to look at her for more than few moments. She was his and someone had fucked with what belonged to him. His vision went black at certain moments. Then he would see her fingers twitch, and he would calm down. She needed his protection right now, he could not lose his temper in this space where she rested. 

It was late into the night when her cries interrupted his seething. He immediately shifted to look at her, lowering his glamour so that she might see him and be comforted. Loki loomed over her bed; a lump in his throat as she struggled to open her bruised eyes. He laid a hand gently atop one of her own and the words floated from his mouth before he could rationalize what they meant,

“Shh, my little bird. I am here now, and you are safe. I will always protect you,”

She said no more that night, and fell back into a restful sleep. Loki’s mind was satisfied that she would be ok. He stayed around in his glamour while the Midgardian healers deliberated on her condition. He had an extensive vocabulary, but was often confused by their terminology. He cursed his inability to decipher her progress and decided the only thing he could do was wait around longer and measure it himself.

______________________________________

 

 

On the third day of her stay, Penelope’s bouts of consciousness were becoming more and more. Loki had not revealed himself to her again; too scared that the healers would think she was delirious after she began mumbling about him after the first night he stayed. 

When she became fully aware, he waited until the room was clear and the door was locked, and then made himself visible to her. She gasped at first, and he was frightened she might scream, but slowly her marred features relaxed back into place and she simply stared up at him.

“Hello,” she managed. He knew it was painful for her to talk because of her ribs. He needed to carry the majority of their conversation, but it was difficult because he was so unsure of what he should say to her.

“Good evening,” he began. “How are you feeling?” He immediately hated himself for needing to ask. She was a mortal. That was all.

“Relieved that I am not insane. I knew I saw you.”

“I’ve been here the entire time, little one. I’ve been watching you and making sure that you are safe. Much like I should have done five nights ago. I do hope you realize that I will kill your man. You will never see him again, Penelope. Any qualms you have matter not. I will find him, and kill him.” 

He was very poised in his statement, and very conversational. He spoke slowly so that Penelope could understand him in her state, and she did not blink. Not at all. 

“You won’t leave me here, will you? Please don’t leave me here, Loki.”

There was something very powerful about the way that she spoke his name. It affected him deep within, and even in his steely countenance, he would do anything for her if she just continued to speak his name like that. Forever, even. 

Forever was different for her than it was so him. He would live twenty lifetimes after her. She was dying every moment of the day. 

“I will stay, if it pleases you.”

“Will you hold my hand? So I can feel you if you go all incognito again?”

“I can oblige.” He said stiffly. He took a seat beside her, and then took her small hand within his own and held it tenderly. It was prodded with a needle that connected to the bag above that gave her liquids. Midgardians needed liquid; especially if they were healing like his was. 

She said nothing more, and neither did he. Loki simply held onto her hand for the remainder of the night, and into the morning so that she knew he was still there despite his invisibility. It gave Loki time to think. The state of it all comforted him, too. Touching her skin and feeling its warmth gave him the sense that she was ok, and that helped him to think clearly.

He would take her home. He would take her back to the place where they had created a nest of oblivion to the rest of Midgard and existed as two people thoroughly enraptured with one another. He did not intend to bestow any more physical affections on her, he simply needed to take care of her and make sure that she was going to be well. He cannot explain why, but of all the sea of Midgardians, she mattered most.

Naturally, he needed to deal with the ex-lover, but his vengeance could wait. He would kill him in the most gruesome way possible so that the authorities wouldn’t believe that his little one could have had a hand in it. Perhaps he would throw his body into the sea to ensure he was never found. Perhaps he would throw him into the sea alive so that nature’s beasts could wipe the blood from his hands. Penelope would be more adept to that plan, anyhow. He did not want her to think of him as a monster. How easily she could blur the lines between protector and abuser. 

The hospital kept her for several days more. Loki remained faithfully by her side, touching her hair, and soothing her nightmares. When the day finally came for her to be released, Loki left for two hours in order to prepare for her stay in his abode. When everything is right, he comes back without a glamour, in Midgardian attire, prepared to take her with him. 

She was listening to nurses’ instructions when he came through the door. Her eyes moved from the supplies she was being given to him. She swallowed hard at his presence. It was strong and unyielding. He was dressed in slacks and a white button down. He appeared every bit of royalty that he claimed to be. 

“Sir, are you lost?” the pudgy mortal nurse inquired. Loki cast his gaze to her and shook his head,

“I am here for her,” he murmured softly. Nell’s heart thumped erratically inside of her chest as he spoke. “I will be her caretaker while she continues to recover. Should I know anything specifically? Medications, tourniquets?” 

Nell almost laughed. He sounded so formal. Even more so, the nurse was almost dumbstruck. It was probably how beautiful Loki was. He was a god, afterall. 

“This is Loki, Michelle. He’s like my personal nurse.” Loki flashed her a quick warning look, but then his attention came back towards Michelle in case he missed any vital information.   
“I was just showing Penelope how to change this bandage… I can start again if you’d like.”

Loki nodded stiffly and walked closer to the both of them so he could observe what she was showing him in silence. Michelle prattled on, boring Penelope, but keeping Loki’s attention. He was fixated on all of the tasks that she gave to him, and for an odd moment, that was endearing to Elle. She was more intrigued with studying him, and remembering their night together and how gentle he’d been with her. He’d chased away all of the demons inside of her and made her feel like a whole person. 

“That’s it, darling. Are you sure you’ll be alright?” Michelle asked, looking back suspiciously at Loki. Nell nodded her head and then the nurse disappeared for a wheelchair.

“You are quite distracted today, little one.”

“I’ve got cabin fever,” she yawned. Loki’s brows came together a moment in confusion. 

“Your Midgardian healers did not mention such ailments.”

She understood his concern, and a smile, waning smile covered her mouth.

“It’s an expression. I don’t really have a fever… here,” she reached out and grabbed his hand so that he might feel the coolness of her skin. He relaxed and was satisfied. “How are we leaving? I can’t really walk right now. My leg,” she explained, a little disheartened. Loki picked up on the change in her demeanor and quickly soothed her fears.

“Not to worry, Penelope of Midgard. I’ve already made travel arrangements, seeing as my magic is nearly depleted right now.”

“What does that mean, anyway? Are you like a tank of magic or something?” she swung herself from bed and he noted that she wore hospital attire much like Michelle’s. They’d given them to her so that she could leave in something other than what she arrived in. The thought made his stomach sick. 

“I know not how to explain it to you, Penelope. On Midgard my magic is not as prominent as it is on Asgard. I have to conjure a lot of energy for the spells I play.”

“What spells?”

“Concealment, for one,” he told her, hoping that it might shed light on his magical abilities and help her understand once and for all. “ Her eyes turned down, sad and brown, and she looked penitent. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t understand what you apologize for, Penelope.”

“I shouldn’t have been so selfish in asking you to stay. Now you magic is nearly out.”

He was in disbelief that she was so perspective of how she might cause any other human even an ounce of discomfort. Especially after what she’d just gone through herself. Loki did not like that she was apologizing to her. It felt wrong. 

“There, there, little bird,” he murmured, a thumb coming up under her chin and bringing her eyes towards his own. “Do not apologize to me. Ever.”

“Loki?” she mumbled. “Will you squeeze me?” 

At first he did not understand her request, but when he saw the familiar lull in her eyes, he knew what she meant. He sighed deeply, carefully scooping her against himself, minding all of the areas that she was hurting, and held her against his chest. He pressed his cheek against her head, and shut his eyes. He squeezed, not too hard to make it hurt, but enough to make it better.


	4. Chapter 4

“You drive?” 

It was Penelope’s first words as they exited the hospital and he carefully wheeled her out to the curb where a nearly new, and incredibly fancy automobile sat waiting for the both of them. 

“Of course I do!” Loki said indignantly. Foolish little mortal. Did she think him incapable of such a meager task? “It is not very difficult.”

He’d stolen the car earlier that morning and it took him only twenty minutes to master the art of driving. After forty minutes, he learned tricks and how to be less vigilant. 

He was incredibly thorough as he devised an action plan the night before when he learned his little flower was going to be uncaged. He thought diligently about whether or not he would take her home to Asgard where she could be properly healed, and recover peacefully, but there was the issue of his father and the exertion of the travel. He did not want to bring her to Asgard as a charity case; because Odin would certain send her straight back.

He needed her to be just a little stronger.

Once Loki had her secured inside the passengers seat, he quickly took the front and was off.

Arriving at the house that was wedged between two others, Nell felt a familiar comfort and safety that she hadn’t since last being here. Loki’s masculine scent overwhelmed the care and repulsed her as much as it comforted her. She remembered the night they shared together in perfect measure, every sweet whisper and tender stroke of her spine. 

It made her feel disgusting. 

How was he even looking at her?

Her inner monologue of self-pity ceased as he came around to her side and opened the door. She prepared for him to assist her in hobbling inside of the chateau, but instead he did something that surprised her greatly. Careful to avoid her tender places, Loki lifted her from the vehicle and carried her inside of the house. Nell’s brow crimped as he held onto his neck, noting that the door was unlocked.

“Why don’t you lock the door?”

“I have no need,” he replied blankly, carrying her into his sitting room, the one with all of the books. Elle felt a slight bit of worry at his confession. She said nothing further, having learned not to answer back.

Loki sat across from her on the chaise. 

“I would like you to be as comfortable as possible, Penelope. Anything you may want, you only need ask. My home is yours as well, so to speak.” He looked uncomfortable. Suddenly Nell wondered if he’d ever shared living space with a female. He was a prince. That probably wasn’t allowed.

“Why are you here?” she asked, trying to tuck her legs under. Loki moved his hand and started a fire to insure her warmth. She was less dazzled this time, and it relieved him that she finally believed his heritage. 

“I know not what you mean,”

“On earth.”

“Midgard,” he corrected softly. “I am a protector of this realm. I work with a group here that is interested in a similar task, and while my brother fights the monsters living in other realms, I come here to make sure that you Midgardians live in peace,”

“That sounds like a big job,”

“Dull, is the more adequate description,” he muttered, “You see, I am only equipped to stop worldly threats. Your people are very talented at hurting one another. Much like your man.”

She swallowed hard but did not look away from him. His eyes were piercing.

“In Asgard, women are seen as some of the finest creatures in all of the nine realms. To lay a hand upon one would be enough for banishment or death. You are a lovely little flower, meek and undoubtedly beautiful. I do believe that there is fire lurking somewhere within you, but to deserve mistreatment by the hand of a man… It behooves me, little mortal.”

“It’ a different game here, Loki. We can all be sprawling gentlemen like you.” 

He noted a sprig of contempt in her voice and it bothered him. He was not a patient man. He was not a tender man. All of these things he had quickly changed in order to make himself right for the little mortal flower before him. He did not know why the allure was so great, and if he was perfectly honest, it infuriated him. Had she not been so weak, emotionally and physically, he would easily throttle her. 

“I do not claim to be such. Your mortal healer suggested that you sleep often. Perhaps you would like to do so now,”

“No!” the desperate plea escaped her mouth before she was able to stop herself. Loki was confused by this outburst. Was sleep so punishing? “I just want to hear more about Asgard. I don’t want to sleep yet, please Loki.”

Again with his name. He was tempted to sigh in frustration, but refrained. She did not need that emotional exertion. This mortal seemed to internalize everything as a fault within herself. Though Loki would love shake her for the damage she’d done to his moral values, he abstained. 

“Why don’t you lie down? I will get you some blankets, and make you some tea for your medication. Then I will tell you all you wish to know about Asgard.”

She agreed to his plan, and fifteen minutes later, after she swallowed the last of her pills, and Loki had tucked her into a human burrito in a nest of blankets, he sat beside her on the floor, lingering close to her face, speaking in soft tones about the place that he called home. 

“…Everything within the walls of the palace is golden. My mother has put some finer touches on it, but for the most part it stays traditional. She has gardens. Do you like plants, Penelope?” Loki smirked, amused by the irony of his own question. She nodded her head, her eyes drowsy with sleep. He was satisfied that she would be resting again soon. “That gardens are inside and outside… great big fountains filled with delicious cherry blossoms that open when you touch the water. It is quite the site, I assure you.”

“It sounds beautiful,” she murmured, watching him with sparkling eyes.

“Flowers generally are,” Loki replied, running a finger along her bruised cheek. She shut her eyes in shame and tried to relax under his ministrations. “I will show you… slowly, my little one, just how beautiful they are.”

She was fast asleep after that. 

He moved her to her bedroom, and checked in every once in a while to make sure that she was all right. The healers had said that sleeping would be a common activity while she was being medicated. He appreciated that she was getting well-deserved peace. 

He moved through the house quietly, trapped in his own head. He was stuck between his rage for Penelope’s ex-lover, his overwhelming emotions for her, and his desire to flee where he was free from it all. How ironic his mission on Midgard had become. 

He made a meal that night that was not very well designed, but nourishing enough. When he was a child, he made friends with some of the scullery maids who had taught him a thing or two. Most of the Midgardian cooking machines were complex and annoying to him, so he spent a good deal of time trying to work them. 

Carrying a tray with food for Penelope, he knocked softly on her door and then entered. He was surprised to see her sitting up, eyes fresh and awake. 

“Good evening,”

“Why did you let me sleep so late?” she asked, her voice sleepy. 

Loki found it strangely endearing as he entered the room, and had lights flooding the place with the wave of his hand. It gave Nell the chance to look around. She blinked a few times, confused at her surroundings. Everything was very light and open. She slept on a king sized maple wood bed, with a white down blanket and a throw for convenience. To her side was a small wooden locker with a vase and a lavender piece proudly beaming at her. A cup of water had been set out. She looked around and noted the bay window and they curtains that matched the bedding. Their was a small sitting area with pillows for comfort, and book suggestions left for curiosity. A wardrobe that matched the bed suit sat across the room. 

Loki had been very adamant that he wanted to make her stay as comfortable as possible. That morning he’d walked into a furniture store and chose this little scene, using magic to transfer the configure the room into his house, leaving a pile of Midgardian money behind as compensation. 

“Your healers say that you require it, my dear. Please try not to be stubborn and fight it. Your medication also makes you very weary…. I’ve made you dinner. I do hope it is to your liking. I know not of your preferences, other than your liking of alcoholic beverages.”

He sat the tray down, and then sank onto the end of the bed and watched as she glanced over the plate of chicken and veg. She had no stomach, but would have felt terrible turning down something that he’d made himself. She braced herself and pulled the tray forward, wincing as the stretch hurt her ribs.

“Steady,” he murmured, eyeing her.

“Where is your food?”

“I will dine after you are situated.”

“Please eat with me,” She requested. He looked at her in confusion, “It will make it less…. awkward,”

Begrudgingly, Loki stood and swiftly made his way back into the kitchen, quickly making himself a plate, and then returning to Penelope who had already began to cut her chicken into manageable bites. 

“So where were we with Asgard?” she inquired, popping a piece into her mouth and chewing quickly. 

“The gardens.”

So he began again, telling her about Asgard, relaying to her how beautiful the nights were and all of the moon in the skies. He told her about the libraries and the stables, at which point she confessed that she was terrified of horses. That perplexed him, so he prompted her to divulge.

“I was thrown off one when I was little. Then he turned around to get back to the stable and shattered my ankle.”

Loki was shocked by the tale.

“Were you being properly supervised?”

“Yes. This horse just had a mind of its own.” She took a sip of her tea, “This is very good, Loki. Thank you for going through the trouble of preparing it for me.”

He nodded his head curtly, acknowledging her gratitude, and then continued on about his childhood and the Asgardian tutors. She was particularly pleased to hear about his development of magic and how his mother had refined his skills considerably. Nell gathered that he loved his mother very much. Frigga, he called her, when she inquired.

All too soon, after their meals were finished and conversation had once again exhausted Nell, Loki set out to clear their plates and debris, and went off to the kitchen. Nell took the liberties of coming out of bed for a moment, and very carefully clutching onto the bed in order to help her navigate towards the wardrobe. When she finally arrived at it, the pain in her ribs became overwhelming, and she could no longer suppress a scream,

“Loki!”

She was puddled in a heap on the ground when he came dashing like a mad, frenzied man, through the bedroom door. Panic seized his heart and he immediately noted that she was crying. He carefully knelt down in order to inspect for damages and found none. Her face was soaked in tears.

“I’m hurt,” she cried to him. He nodded, and carefully extracted her from the floor, and very gently placed her back into the bed. She breathed deeply, trying to self-soothe and cope with the pain that was consuming her. Loki didn’t know what to do, so quickly he found her medication and inwardly counted the time. It was an hour too early, but that couldn’t be as detrimental as the pain she was suffering through currently. Surely Midgardian drug addicts took triple the amounts and were unscathed. 

“What we you doing over there?” he demanded, flustered, even more so that she was still crying. 

“I wanted to see what was in the wardrobe,” she hiccuped softly. “I wanted to change, and be clean.”

Loki’s eyes shut as he tried to quell his mounting anxiety. 

“Here, little one, take this. It will stop your suffering.” He watched as she took the medicine and then laid back exasperated into the pillows, sweat having formed at her brow. Loki’s insides felt mauled, and carefully, he leaned forward and kissed her temple softly, hoping to diminish her pain to a minimal. 

Her tears stopped.

Drowsiness overcame her so quickly she hardly had time to notice the second kiss, this time under her tender eye. 

 

________________________________________________

 

She woke twice during the night, unaware of consciousness the entire time, pleading with Loki to lock the doors. She wouldn’t stop her panic until he did, and once he came back, and assured her that she was indeed, safe, she drifted back off to sleep. It was strange behavior. He’d had nightmares before, but for Nell to be awoken by them so often concerned Loki. 

He wondered whether or not to phone the healers to make sure she was ok.

The next morning he surprised her with a bath.

She wasn’t shy as he aided her in stripping her clothing, leaving her body bare for him to see. Loki had never seen the extent of her bruising. Large footprints above her abdomen curdled his stomach. Scratch marks lined her soft belly. Loki’s disgust made Nell unconsciously burrow deep into a trance. She was unresponsive for the rest of that day. He had to feed her with a spoon to ensure nutrients, and even when he sat by her side and read her poetry, she still stared straight ahead. 

She would never be able to forget the look on his face when he saw her body. 

Finally, in the night when he came to her for her nightmares, Loki was relieved when he saw that she was alert. 

“I disgust you,” she breathed in a broken whisper. “The way you looked at me this morning… I make you sick,”

Loki swallowed hard. He came and sat by the edge of her bed and reached out a hand to touch her. Touching her sometimes felt like the only way to communicate effectively. 

“No, no, no, little one. I am hurting with you.”

“Can you—will you?” she could not quite utter the request, but somehow Loki knew. He conjured every bit of strength that he possessed, and climbed into her bed, then took her into his arms. Once she was tucked neatly against his chest, she sighed contently. 

“Thank you, Loki.”

He could utter no response, already compromising his power and authority. Loki was not a man of emotion. It was not the way he worked. To have succumbed to her desires and find out that they very much sated his own, made Loki sick. He decided not to care, and not to resent holding and comforting her. 

His resolved weakened every second as she curled into him. Her fingers dug into his stomach, and Loki realized that she clung to him so desperately, because he was her strength. He had a hard time accepting that fate, but eventually he succumbed. Loki pressed his nose into her neck and held her a little tighter. 

Just a little longer.


	5. Chapter 5

They remained in that sort of Halcyon for the next few weeks, existing with one another. 

Loki cared for Nell, and Nell tried to manifest that she was worth caring for. It was not often that she had fits of unquenchable anger, and lashed out, but Loki remained as calm as ever, and refused to take to heart what she said in those moments. 

He did not allow himself back into her bed again after that night. Every once in a while she had nightmares still, and on those nights, Loki would sit beside her, and stoke her brow until she was once again fast asleep. He never asked what they were about. The second time that her dreams were disturbed; she’d asked him if the doors were locked. He’d understood perfectly then, and in all of his anger, he responded a dull yes to satisfy her troubled soul.

During the day she’d taken up to sitting in the garden and reading. She enjoyed the blistering sun. Loki was always afraid of her catching a chill, so he monitored her body very closely to ensure that she was perfectly well before allowing her out there for too long a period. 

She began to cook with him, and one day they did the shopping together. They basked in the routine and normalcy of this life they’d adopted. Loki kept Penelope safe, and Penelope kept Loki sound. He knew that without her presence day to day, that he would easily go insane with longing for her and the traits that he’d grown accustomed to; the way she chewed her bottom lip when she read, or dipped her finger inside of her tea when she was distracted, or the very worst was when she popped her knuckles and made a terrible cracking sound. 

He stilled helped her to bathe and change. She had weakness in her arms from not using them, to, which Loki aided by having her help around the house, doing menial chores that would help to restore her strength. She was content, aside for her night terrors. She very much enjoyed living with Loki. He made her feel secure and security was something that she needed a lot of. 

Doubt always lingered in Nell’s mind. She never knew whether or not to trust his demeanor. She felt strength within Loki that was beyond terrifying. She knew that he could easily snap her neck if it was his wish. She also knew that no matter how hard she tried, he wouldn’t kiss her again. Even as intimate as they had become because of Nell’s condition, he’d kept her recovery his primary focus. 

She couldn’t really blame him, either. She had been tainted by the hand of someone else. Why would an Asgardian prince want anything to do with her? Loki was special; he was brilliant. There were probably women lined up outside of the golden palace waiting to yield to him. 

For the next few days, she kept to herself, her sadness a mystery to Loki. 

In the second month of her stay, she had gotten progressively better, and her ribs were mostly healed. She could do most things by herself now, including bathing. All physical contact with her rescuer had diminished and left Nell hollow and planning her departure. She froze him out, not wishing to start conflict when she was so close to leaving. The notion terrified her, too. She wasn’t entirely sure if she was ready to be on her own. 

Firstly, her apartment terrified her. She’d given up the though of that place belonging to her once Henry had moved in and turned everything upside down. Just the though to the wall colors made her stomach sick. Henry was another story in itself. Loki had sworn to her rather callously months ago that he would murder Henry. Had he already done that? She refused to leave this place without insurance that she would be free of him. Loki had almost killed him once, she didn’t see anything stopping him at this point.

Meanwhile, Loki grew restless from Penelope’s sudden silence. It concerned him, and frustrated him. He had grown accustomed to her companionship, and to be alone again to his thoughts was miserable. He racked his brain searching for answers regarding her mysterious behavior, but always turned up blank. She was distant and cold. Rarely would she even remain in the same room as him for more than periods of five minutes. She was on edge and he wondered whether or not it was a delayed reaction from her attack. Did she not trust him? That thought nearly enraged Loki. 

He had done everything in his power in order to quell the beast within. He’d done everything for her, so naturally her dismissal of Loki was gutting. 

Then everything changed one night.

He felt the stir before her violent cries pierced the night. Before he could get to her, she was barreling down the hall, and lost her footing, falling to the grown a heap of white cotton and tears. 

Her mantra was the same as it was every time. 

‘He got me!’ 

Loki’s chest tightened as she clutched the material of his black pajama pants. She had not had a nightmare in a while. It had been a long time since he’d rushed to her room in the middle of the night to soothe the fears that lingered. Some of those nights he would remain by her side, stealth, ready to kill the man who plagued her so entirely, other nights he would get her back to sleep and then return to his own room, a longing buried deep in his heart to hold her. 

Carefully, he crouched down and approached her ball of fabric and sweaty limbs. Her long hair fell erratically over her back and arms making it impossible to see her face in his current position. He said nothing as he reached his arms under her elbows and pulled her apart, as gently as possible. 

When he saw the tear tracks down her face, he winced. She was so small and fragile. 

“Are the doors locked?” she whispered, refusing to meet his eyes. 

“Yes. Yes, they are locked,” he breathed. Almost magnetically she tucked herself into his arms and for a brief moment of uncertainly Loki remained still, but once he realized that it was comfort that she sought, he gave it to her, cradling her body close to his, squeezing her, trying to ensure a certain comfort that only this ministration could provide. 

“He always gets me,” she cried. 

“No one is going to get you,” he growled out. “You’re safe here… can you understand that, Penelope? You. Are. Safe.” He pressed his mouth against her temple and squeezed his eyes shut, “I will protect you, little one.”

He carried her back to bed and when he was going to leave, she touched his hand and pulled him back. 

“Don’t leave me,”

“I shouldn’t stay,”

“I make you sick,”

“Damn you!” he hissed, “You do not make me sick. Stop saying those things,”

Her sleepy brown eyes stared back at him, large and unyielding. They swallowed him whole, suffocating him to the point where he could hardly breathe. 

“Why don’t you want me anymore?”

“Is that what you think?” he inquired quietly, his voice so soft that it made her shudder involuntarily. “How wrong you are, little mortal… I yearn for you… I want to kiss you, and claim your body as mine,” he inched forward, not able to restrain himself, “I wish to shake sense into your head so that you might see what you really are.”

“I’m leaving here, Loki. I won’t continue to play this fucking game with you.”

“Where will you go?” his voice was hollow.

“You can’t love me!” she cried, ignoring his question.

“You think a monster incapable of love?” 

His words hurt her. She lunged forward and he caught her by her forearms, holding her tightly, almost painfully. He brought his face close to her own, his glaring into her own.

“Say it,”

“I will not call you a monster!” she yelled, her voice shrill, her eyes bright with fear and unmarked passion. 

“There we are,” he smiled sickly before crushing his lips against hers. The small bit of passion that the little one had exuded just then confirmed that she was ready to have him.

As if some instinctual force had planted itself in her mind, her hand came up to the side of her face, and held him closely, a groan slipping from her mouth. Warmth radiated through her and she felt a safety that had seemed so far away since Henry had hurt her. Loki gave her those feelings. He locked onto her so fiercely that she couldn’t shake an invisible need that had nestled into her veins. 

“Loki,” she breathed softly as they came apart. His minty eyes met her own and his throat tightened. “I need you,”

His frame stalked over hers, and watched her eyes carefully, refusing to look away as she bore back into his own. Her fingers reached up and touched the side of his jaw, and the tender, exposed nerves that she presented were too valuable for Loki to leave untouched.

“I want you. I’ve wanted you always… you could never make me sick,” he growled, “If I kiss you again, I will want to kiss you always. Always is a very long time, little mortal. Are you prepared?”

Tears in her eyes, she answered him with a silent kiss, catching him by surprise as her learn body propelled up to capture his lips again. She was so soft he almost lost his mind just then. He yearned for her sweet warmth and the adrenaline that their intimacy had given him the last time they’d made love. 

“You will be mine,” he murmured sensually by her ear. He dropped kisses against her exposed skin, and fingered his way through the material of her pajamas. “I will know your body as any lover should, my flower. You will bloom only for me,”

“For you, Loki,” she responded with a breathy sigh as she tried to memorize his lip pattern. 

He left nothing untouched. Not a single battle scar or healing wound was off limits to his complete adoration and sweet affections. That night was something so different from the first night. There was a consolation prize at the end that was happiness. Loki made her feel safe and she’d grown to care for him in a way that made her heart constrict painfully. The way that he kissed her was more beautiful than she was willing to try and explain. She’d never felt so important in one more to anyone before. 

She chanted his name, and twisted her fingers in his hair. She screamed, and cried in ecstasy. He gave her pleasure over and over until finally her body could take no more, and he was satisfied with holding her.

Sweaty and content, Nell wove her legs through Loki’s and he tucked her tiny hands into his arms needing her to be as close as possible. He studied her face very carefully, feeling a deep gratification like never before. Penelope was his woman, and no one would take her from him. No one would ever hurt her again.

“Mine,” he whispered before finally succumbing into his second slumber of the night. This time, Penelope did not shift, she did not scream, instead, she slept peacefully, sated, and well loved.

 

____________________________________________

 

They slept the majority of the next day, and when they were awake, silence encased the both of them. The feelings that were thick in the air made it difficult to properly say anything. Loki was content to lay and look at her. His green eyes inspected her expressions, and gauged her reactions carefully. He only insisted they move when it was time for her to be medicated. He did not miss the frown that accompanied that request. 

Nell dressed in a long robe that made Loki’s mouth run dry as he realized how easily he could access her naked flesh again. As she finished tying her robe, he came up behind her, ignoring the startle that he gave her, and pulled her body against his, inhaling deeply. 

“So tiny and beautiful,” he murmured gently. 

She turned, so that her eyes met his chest, and she hugged him tightly, her throat searing with painful esteem. Nell had never experience something so deep and profound. Loki didn’t realize that quite yet, but he knew that his comfort and touch ignited a trust within her that he was quite addicted to. 

“You feel good,” she murmured. “Won’t you take me back to bed?”

Her bold request made Loki fell a swell of satisfaction. He remembered first meeting her and how loose her tongue had been. She was brazen, and he was addicted to searching out every drop of brazen within her. This day, it signaled to him that she was going to be better. 

“Insatiable,” he whispered by her ear, “I need to feed you, little flower, and make sure your treatment is administered…. Then perhaps I will take you in the garden,”

He did not say take you to the garden, but instead, he said take you in the garden.

He does.

Nell decided that one of the most beautiful things in the world was seeing his face twist in pleasure as he lost himself inside of her. His vulnerability was the most exquisite thing that she’d ever witnessed before. Afterward, her back was covered in nature, and her skin glowed brilliantly. 

She cursed, and cried, and sank her fingers so hard into Loki, that a straggled came from his own mouth, but he never asked her to stop, somehow marveling in the pain. She breathed life into him like never before. 

He adored her.


	6. Chapter 6

For the next two weeks they slept peacefully, entangled in each other, well rested after fucking the energy out of one another. They fucked at night and made love during the day. It was dynamic and neither had felt so sated before. It was never too much. She always desired him, and equally so, he always wanted her. Sweaty, beautiful love, Loki was obsessed with the little mortal who he had claimed. He understood Thor’s fixation. The only difference was, was that Loki cherished his beautiful little one. He did not wish to find another; he wanted her always. 

Often times when he thought about forever, a black cloud loomed over him. He was Asgardian; a prince no less. He never had a single right to become infatuated with her. Her lifespan was a flick of the wrist compared to his own. He would live thousands of years, nearly invincible, and she would be dead before he could even miss her, aged, and weak. 

It infuriated Loki. He’d never been content with a woman on his realm. They’d never intrigued him the way that little Penelope had. He felt slighted. As a prince, he felt entitlement. If he wanted her, he should have been able to have her; consequences be damned. But thinking on it, he knew he was foolish. The consequence was his woman’s demise. That was unthinkable, especially when he buried deeply between her legs, as she allowed him to take her, putting all of her faith into him. He had vowed to keep her safe. He’s traced her scars and kissed her bruises. He possessed her with his body and ruined her for any other man who might one day take his place. 

She was in love with him.

They stayed cocooned in that little hidey-hole for ages. Sexual rituals filled the air, and little acts of intimacy became more frequent. Those were strictly non-sexual, and that’s what made Nell feel so good. Like when he captured her hips in the kitchen while she made oatmeal, and brought her body against her, or when he pressed his lips to the nape of her neck while she read silently on the bay window. He was very good at surprising her with his sneaky, calculated moments. 

Loki was the not the sort of man to bring her flowers or surprise her with chocolates. It was too simple for him. Instead, he bestowed his affections on her in others way, such as drawing her baths, and setting warming spells over the garden so that she could spend all the time she desired out by the tiny flower beds. Sometimes he touched her hair, fleetingly, always, but the tender caress alone was a limb for his stoic soul. Still, though, Nell realized that she mattered to him, and she’d inched her way into his heart. 

Thursday morning, two months later, found Nell out of their bed, and in the bath, relaxing in the water, and trying to cope with the womanly pain that plagued her. Loki had massaged her belly the night before, loosening the muscles, but she still hurt. 

‘Soon,’ he’d murmured against her brow, ‘It will be over soon,’

It happened out of nowhere. Thunder began cracking like wildfire, and Loki had raced into the large bathroom, eyes blazing, his Asgardian apparel suddenly covering his body, earning a high pitched shriek from an unsuspecting Nell. His eyes were dark and concerned. His lips set into a tight line.

“Dress and stay in this bathroom, Penelope. Do not move from it no matter what your need.”

“Loki—“ she began, but he swiftly cut her off.

“Now is not the time for your defiance!” his tone was sharp… sharper than he had intended. 

She sank back into the water, cowering from him, an action that made bile rise in his throat, and cause temporary hatred fill him up. He’d never made her cower before. She’d always been his equal. 

Thunder cracked again, and Loki shook his thoughts concerning Nell, and swiftly left the bathroom, placing a spell of protection against intruders and locking her in, not able to help himself. He needed to conceal her from him…from Thor.

The thunder was easily interpreted. Thor had come and he had no business on Midgard. It was Loki’s mission to protect it. Odin had been clear in his orders. Loki’s stomach coated in anxiety. What if Heimdall had discovered his little mortal? He was not ready to be taken away from her. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready for that.

Sure enough, Thor stood inside of the sitting room, staring out of the window where Penelope read and took her tea. Thor’s broad stance tainted the lovely image that stained in the back of his mind. For the longest while a familiar scent had been dominant in their little dwelling. Penelope’s soft perfume had always lingered pleasantly, and Thor’s presence disrupted that singularity.   
“Brother,” Loki began, his voice testy, “I see you still have no regards for a door,”

“Mother has sent me to check on you since you insist on cloaking yourself from Heimdall’s watch.” 

Loki rolled his eyes dramatically; disappointed that Thor had no real reason for disturbing his domestic peace. 

“What do you wish to convey back to her? I am bound to this dull realm and follow the tasks given.”

“My friends in New York claim that you’ve been an essential member of their team. Is this true?” Thor began to pace through his house, putting Loki on edge. Though Penelope was not a secret, her presence belonged to him alone right now while she remained emotionally fragile. He did not wish to share her existence with his brute of an elder brother. 

“I do their bidding,” he replied, “what is your true purpose here, brother? To ransack my home?”

“Mother is worried.” Thor restated. 

“What shall I do to remedy that, then? I am bound to this task as you are your own. Allow me peace. You know our mother worries without need.”

Thor mumbled as his eyes roamed. He was now in the kitchen, his massive frame overpowering the small room, making appear quaint. Loki, remembering his lover’s illness the night before, and his hasty cleaning after their supper, panicked when he realized that their would be two of everything inside of the sink, surely tipping Thor in the direction of his little mortal. He nearly winced as Thor peered in, but nothing happened. He was relieved to find that Penelope must have come down that morning and washed up. 

“Your trickery always makes a face, Loki,” Thor declared. Loki’s brows furrowed, understanding the meaning behind his brother’s words, but not understanding how it was applicable to their situation. His mental search was quickly halted as Thor stood stock still before his fist darted up and grabbed something from the chair. When Loki caught the emerald glimmer, he rubbed his aching temples. 

It was Penelope’s robe.

“So you are fraternizing with Midgardian whores now?”

Loki hissed,

“She is not a whore, Thor. Take care of how you speak in regards to my woman!” 

Anger flashed across his face and was plenty evident as Thor stared on in amusement. 

“Loki had taken on a Midgardian lover… after all of your scoffing in regards to their race? This will be a fine story indeed to relay to our mother! Perhaps she will begin to knit your bride a wedding veil.” Thor’s petty jests just did more to infuriate the trickster. 

“You cannot breathe a word of this to anyone, Thor. Surely the Allfather will request my return the moment he knows of it. Remember well that I know of your own consorts… even your current favorite, the scientist.” His lips curled into a sneer as he said this, and Thor’s face straightened from the smirk that it held before. 

“Where is she?” he demanded, intending to turn his house upside down in order to find his brother’s Midgardian relic.

“She is not your concern, neither will you meet her today. She is unwell right now,”

Thor’s eyes narrowed,

“Does she not need the healers then?”

“It does not require that assistance. Her femininity plagues her,” 

Loki was glad that Thor understood the meaning of his words and did not request further explanation. Instead, he firmly nodded his head. 

“I will not discuss this on Asgard. Though you must start to consider these things, brother. Odin will not always have you here, especially if he deems you to be content in your position.”  
Loki glared at Thor’s words, knowing that ultimately, he was right. 

“I will take your gallant observations into considerations, brother. Now if you please, leave my abode.”

Once Thor was gone, Loki made his way back up stairs, slightly cringing as he realized that he’d locked Penelope into the bathroom. His pace became quicker, and when he arrived at the door where he’d left her wondering, he lifted the spell, and opened it quietly. 

The little flower was now out of the tub, sitting on the floor in a bathrobe, her knees drawn to her chest, her chin resting on them. Immediately her eyes sprang up, and instead of holding the sadness that he expected to find, they flashed with rage. She stood and he began to make amends,

“Penelope,“ he began, his tone a testy warning, “it was for your own benefit,”

“Fuck you, Loki! Fuck you!” she screamed, storming past him and out of the bathroom back into the room that they shared. She was fuming mad, pure rage rolling in waves off of her body. He’d never seen her so infuriated. These past months of their blossoming intimacy, they’d been inseparable with one another and she had opened herself to him with honesty and trust. The way her eyes flashed dangerously told him a story of losing that and he’d never felt so helpless.

Before she could slam the door shut in her own room, one that had been unused for months, Loki appeared out of thin air, and her stomach clenched realizing that there was no evading him. He saw them then, the two tears that were threatening to spill over and turn her anger into the horrible sadness.

“Why did you do that?” she shouted. The tears fell then, and Loki’s heart clutched tightly inside of his chest, loathsome to himself for causing her distress. He’s not seen that brand of tears since the first night he’d joined with her body again. Other tears had been more pleasurable, like the ones that fell in the midst of a climax. These tears spoke of hurt, though, hurt that he’d inflicted.

“You’ve never taken my choice away from me!”

“Penelope,” he began to plead, reaching out for her. She danced out of his grasp, clutching her robe to her body. “I should not have spoken to you that way…” she continued to guard herself from him, “I considered your safety and not your heart,”

Seeing her weep made him feel sick with shame. 

“Thor arrived and I failed to think… I only want to protect you, little one… I feel as if I have failed you once already.”

Silence encompassed the room before she finally spoke,

“Loki,” she whispered, her heart stinging. She closed that gap and quickly he twisted her limbs so the tucked into his own, a guttural cry coming from him as he tried in a panicked rush to re-memorize each and everything about her. Her wet hair emitted the floral scent that was attached to her. He inhaled and held her tightly. 

“Your trust is my salvation.” He whispered, “Without it, I am nothing.”

Desperate to regain their connection, Loki led them to her bed, and quickly shed his Asgardian clothing for his own bathrobe, and lay down on the soft tufts of down, taking her with him, her body fitting into the curve of his. A soft sigh escaped her and she breathed in deeply as his hand settled against her stomach protectively. 

“I’m sorry, my precious one.”

Penelope knew at that moment where she stood in Loki’s life and this was not a temporary arrangement. He had a genuine care for her that was foreign and caressed her insides with a glow that was unexplainable as it was lovely. She placed her hand over his own to comfort him, and said nothing. 

After a few minutes of staring across the room at the window, Loki, whose cheek was laid against Nell’s, spoke in a very gentle voice,

“My mother sent Thor for inquisitive purposes,” his breath was warm against her face, “she fears my silence”

“How do you usually communicate with them?” her sleepy inquiry held no evidence of embitterment. For this he was thankful and relieved. 

“I don’t conceal myself the majority of the time. Since we’ve established an—agreement, I find it necessary to cast certain shadows for proprieties sake.”

A giggle came from her, and it caressed the wound he’d given himself in his hasty ignorance. 

“The God of Mischief revels in propriety?” 

Loki playfully scoffed at her, and held her tighter. 

“Little one…” he began, his voice stressed, “I’m sorry I hurt you,”

Loki was not a man of apologies. Nell knew this in her little company with the god. He did not like to admit defeat or when he was wrong. This extension of peace was unsettling, but welcome to her. It meant that apart of Loki, though he was not to be domesticated, belonged to her in some unknowing way. That fact made her the entirety of her insides bloom.

“Don’t say anything else about it,” Nell spoke quietly, “and don’t ever do it again.”

He laughed softly, and buried his nose in her neck,

“That is the thing, sweet one… if it means your protection, I will do it over, and over, and over again rather that put you in dangers way…”


	7. Chapter 7

Loki grew anxious the next month, simmering on Thor’s words and trusting that he did not travel home to Asgard and share his Midgardian secret with his family. His flower was more than some hidden concubine. She was his treasure and he did not want to share her.

Her progress waned. While her conscious self understood that Loki was good and that he would protect her from her ex Midgardian lover, her subconscious dreamer was not so easily sated, and her often had to shake her awake at night when her skin became slick with her fear. It would take a few minutes of her wide eyed fear to become less so, and realize that she was with Loki and only then did she calm down from her high.

The Midgardian healers called it Post-Traumatic stress disorder. At her check up, he had words with one of the healers and explained the symptoms; desperate to know whether or not it was normal. They assured him that the only true cure aside from letting her grow out of the fear, was medicinal, and Loki knew that she would not comply with the options, nor would he want to further alter her.

So he read about alternative treatments. They were behavioral remedies. Loki mastered the subject one afternoon while she worked in her garden. In his books, physical work such as that she partook in, in her precious garden, was good for healing her soul. So he altered climates, protected her from weathers, and allowed nothing to come between her and the flowers that she nurtured.

At night, he would sit by her in the bath and read to her. Her pruny fingers would force ripples into the water as she listened to him recite Shakespeare so beautifully that she would weep. He could now properly distinguish between her tears of sorrow, and enlightenment. He had newly discovered her desire for a multitude of culture. He thought to himself of different ways to lavish her mind in all she sought. He bought her books. He nurtured her curiosity about all things that dealt with Asgard. He was sure that she could very well visualize that palace in her own mind at that point.

Then one night, as he listened to her brush her teeth in the washroom, he realized the very thing that he could have done all along that would have helped ease her mind during her period of sleep.

Stepping into the bathroom, he came up behind her, and encircled her tiny frame within his embrace and pressed his lips to the crown of her head, enjoying the vibrations that her current occupation gave. She was wearing one of the nightgowns that he’d purchased for her. It was long, and emerald silk that was slit down her left thigh allowing him a peak at her pale perfection. Even after hours in the garden, her skin remained unblemished by the sun.

“I have a treat for you tonight, my sweet,” he murmured in her ear. He did not miss her grin that appeared on her lips and he was sure that she was reflecting on the treat he’d given her in the shower hardly an hour ago when he’d made her come so hard that she’d nearly blacked out. He’d had to ease her onto the floor after their orgasms died down so that she could regain her strength. Loki had hummed in satisfaction that he was capable of rendering her so helpless.

“What would that be?” she asked, once she’d spit the remaining toothpaste into the sink and rinsed her mouth. He kissed her softly before answering her, taking too much pleasure in how she tasted after brushing her teeth after supper every night. The minty taste invaded his mouth as she stroked her tongue softly along his.

Once he left her lips, a teasing smile on his own, he took her hand and brought her into their shared bedroom where he’d rapidly turned the sheets down once he’d thought up his brilliant idea.

“I don’t want to go to bed yet,” she told him nervously. He looked at her, his beautiful goddess, and brushed a tender thumb along her eye under her cheek.

“I’m going to vanish all of your bad dreams, little one.”

“How?”

“Tonight, I am going to dream with you.”

Once she was tucked into his limbs with Loki comfortably spooning her, his soft breathing lulled her into a daze, and eventually a slumber. Loki was swift behind her…

___________________________________________________________

_Elle walked a short distance, and then she was surrounded by gold, beautiful, glittering gold. Tall pillars, massive walls and endless gates were all so blindingly beautiful that she gasped._

_“Asgard,”_

_“Mhm,” Loki’s smooth voice glossed over her excitement next to her. He also stared at his home, feeling a twinge of endearment caress him as he realized just how long it had been since he’d seen Frigga._

_“Oh my god.”_

_“No need to call upon me, little one,” he teased. She was too stunned to retort, merely stood, planted in place with her mouth agape. “Come, I have much to show you.”_

_They began in the feasting halls where there was a spread laid out. The table was so massive that it could seat the entire court and extended out far past what seemed to be a blistering sky of endless stars and purple shinning haze that brought tears to her eyes. Good tears, he knew this much._

_Next they travelled to the library where they spent the better part of her dream that night, going through Asgardian literature, Loki teaching her a few words, and showering her in praise for her efforts. They read on the balcony, and Loki was tempted to stay there and enjoy the feeling of his little one’s head in his lap, but then he remembered what he was truly excited to show her—the gardens._

_Loki had often wondered what it would be like to see her enchantment when she saw his mother’s private gardens, and her reaction did not fail him. He made sure that the illusion was a perfect representation of what it was truly like in Frigga’s domain. The flower ponds were in place, as well as every bloom imaginable. It put Nell’s little garden to shame. The way the sunlight touch the buds alone was one of the most beautiful sights he’d ever happened upon._

_“Is this… is it the?” she questioned, stumbling over herself while she approached the little pond. He nodded with a sly smile perched on his lips, testing her memory. She did not disappoint him. She dipped her finger into the scented water, and like magic, the blooms erupted before her eyes, drawing a gasp from the small Midgardian woman. Her eyes sparkled, and soon, she ran through the gardens, caressing each water pond, shouts of laughter and wonderment escaping her mouth as she set them all bloom, marveling in sweet wonderment._

_Loki watched on with a swell of pride as her sheer happiness and joy reflected that of the beautiful Asgardian skies._

___________________________________________________________

 

When she woke the next morning, recalling bits and pieces of their adventure, she toppled over on Loki, causing him to groan, and hugged him tightly. She blinked rapidly, and kissed his hard, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist.

“That was wonderful.”

“I’m glad you found it so,” he remarked softly, trying to gain consciousness himself. He found use of his hands in gripped her upper arms, satisfied that her skin was not saturated in sweat as it usually was on nights that she was terrified by her dreams.

“Was that really Asgard?”

“Indeed it was, little one. Lilly ponds and all. I have never seen you so happy, my sweetling.”

“Then maybe I don’t show you enough how happy you make me, Loki.” She whispered tenderly, placing her lips against his brow, “you make me incredibly happy…”

“The feeling is mutual, dear one….” He cradled her against his body and then whispered, “ _when the layers subside, and the fortune is empty, the pigment of our days will echo pure, and I will be no where, if not with you_.”

Every night Loki took her on wild adventures in her dreams. Sometimes she requested particular things, and other nights she allowed him to surprise her. Together they climbed the mountains in Vanaheim and visited the land where the dwarves lived, making love in a small hutch that Loki barely fit into.

He even appeased her with trips to Midgardian landmarks that enthralled the little flower. They saw the Vatican and northern lights. He took her into the queen’s chambers at Versailles and fucked her in front of an antique mirror. It made their life during the day perfectly amiable. Loki continued to read about her illness, and was pleased when her symptoms began to vanish. She became happier, her plagues no longer haunting her day or night.

They began to live outside the walls of the house. They went to the market together, and often walked through the park late at night if Nell felt anxious. It helped her to burn off energy. Loki began to explore England with her, taking long day trips to Brighton to see the beach, though it was frosty during this time of year. He took great pleasure in seeing her happy. 

One year went by and they hardly knew it.

When the day came that Loki had made Penelope his, he presented her with a token of his immense affection that was in the form of a small locket. A tiny emerald oval hung from the dainty chain, and when she picked it up into her hands, it would glow. Loki informed her that it was a communication device in which she could always contact him if she wore it, verbal or non-verbal. He'd worked on the enchantments for weeks and had perfected it by the time he fastened it around her neck.

Her gift for him was a rare piece of Midgardian literature that he’d been pining for since the holiday’s when she’d introduced him to a Midgardian author that he'd become rather fond of.. It was a very rare first edition that she knew he’d appreciate. When he thanked her for her kindness, a small smile perched on her lips, and a mischievous glint in her eyes made Loki wonder what she was plotting.

Her true gift had her recovering much of the next day in bed. Since Loki had taken on the role of gentle lover, Nell knew very well that he’d suppressed his appetite of more vicarious sexual preferences. Though she was unable and unwilling to participate in some, she found that one of his greatest desires was something that she was very eager to try.

That night Penelope _kneeled_ for her king.

She hadn’t been very much into role-play, but when one found the appropriate partner, it wasn’t exactly as boring and predicable as one might assume. Loki had created to the scene from her imagination rather flawlessly, and when the Midgardian thief stepped into the throne room, trembling in fear, Loki asserted who her rightful king was, and punished her in the most delicious way.

That night he’d cuddled her in a way to remind his weary love that play was play, but he was the man behind her, intertwining their limbs together and humming softly in her hair.   
She smiled in sweet irony, because at any other time she would have needed the validation, but there in Loki’s embrace, nothing more was required.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "when the layers subside, and the fortune is empty, the pigment of our days will echo pure, and I will be no where, if not with you"
> 
> Author unknown.


End file.
